A Life Anew
by TheFantasyNerd
Summary: Kilik was a farmer, a young Nord just come of age in his home outside Bruma. With his parents' blessing, he traveled north to his homeland, to make his life. He had no idea what his future would hold.


It was not yet dawn in the chilly town of Bruma. However, a young man had just emerged from the Icetap Tavern, the only inn in the city. An older couple followed him out. The woman clung to him, with a half-muffled sob, while her partner looked into his eyes.  
"Son, you're headed over the mountains. Don't stray from the path , and be careful at the border, and you'll be fine," he said gruffly. The young man attempted a smile.  
"I know, Da. I'll be fine, don't you worry," he replied lightly. The woman sniffled, and he hugged her tightly. "Ma, I'll miss you. But it's Skyrim! I'll be the first of our kin to return their in several generations! There are so many opportunities awaiting!" he exclaimed, hoping to cheer her up. She wiped her eyes and looked up.  
"I know, but can't you stay on the farm? Or just move down the road? Your brother did, and your sister just moved to town.."  
"He can't. Kilik would never be happy here, would you, boy? Go, with my blessings. Travel to Skyrim, live a life of honor," the father said, clapping his son on the back as he bent to shoulder his light pack, before heading out the northern gate.

Kilik traveled along the path for a couple of days, keeping time by the sight of the sun slipping through the clouds. He saw no other travelers on this road, nor, fortunately, any robbers or wild animals. Mid-morning on the third day after leaving Bruma, the young Nord heard loud noises, and what sounded like angry shouts. He quickened his pace, reaching for his hunting bow as he did so. Not that he felt he could be of any help to anyone, to be sure. He wasn't a killer. Gods forbid he shot anything besides a deer.

He crested a rise in the path, and saw before him a troop of blue-garbed men fighting what looked like a legion of the Empire's troops. Kilik's eyes widened in alarm. Who were the blue-cloaked men, and why did they dare go against the Imperial army? He was curious, but he wasn't stupid. He remained in a half-crouch, hidden behind a tree. He saw what looked like the leader of the bandits or rebels, whichever they were. The leader was a tall, proud-looking Nord, of fair hair and beard. He looked defiantly at the soldiers against whom he fought. Then his chest puffed out.

"FUS ROH DAH" he boomed. The very force of his words sent imperial troops staggering; the ones closest to him were even lifted briefly into the air. Kilik was close enough to feel the force of the Voice. It hit him in the chest with the force of a punch to the gut, despite his being a fair distance away.  
"Oof," he muttered, and started to step backwards. He watched as the man was grabbed from behind by the captain, and knocked squarely in the chin, going unconscious. The rebel men, at the sight of their captured leader, began to drop their weapons in defeat. As they were rounded up, one, a young blond man, defiantly shouted out.  
"Skyrim belongs to the Nords! You filthy Imperials will never destroy our voice! We are the Stormcloaks!"  
"Quiet, you, unless you wish to be gagged as well," snarled one of the Imperial troops.

"Oy! Here's another one, trying to hide!" cried a voice, close to Kilik. He whipped around with a cry of alarm, to find himself face-to-blade with one of the troops.

"No! No, you've got it wrong! I'm just a traveler; I don't know them!" Kilik yelped, scrabbling backwards. The man laughed humorlessly.  
"Ha, a likely story. Stormcloak scum," he spat, swinging his blade down on the helpless man. Kilik waited for the death blow, but instead heard another voice interfer.  
"Bruin, there's no need to kill him," the voice said calmly. The first man swore.  
"He's just a Stormcloak!"  
"We don't need to kill him. That is an order." Kilik looked up hopefully.  
"Sir, please let me go, I-"  
"Shut up! I'm not saving your life, you worthless pig. You're going to Helgen," snarled the captain, swinging a fist at Kilik.

The last sensation he felt was a staggering pain in his left temple. He blacked out.

Author's message

Hello to all! I'm starting another story! This is Kilik, my newest Skyrim character. I felt like he had the most promising story for a more serious tale. Don't worry, the misadventures of Fishbreath and Lydia shall continue! ;) (hopefully faster then they have been, haha)

Cheers,  
TheFantasyNerd


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